


Master of the House

by iaintafraidofnoghostbear



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Background Relationships, Exhibitionism, Lactation Kink, Male Lactation, Minor Character(s), Multi, Not Hockey Players (Hockey RPF), Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Slavery, Vignette, mentions of mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2019-11-09
Packaged: 2021-01-25 22:37:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21363802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iaintafraidofnoghostbear/pseuds/iaintafraidofnoghostbear
Summary: When the house he works in is sold to a new alpha master, things change for Mitch.
Relationships: Mitch Marner/Ivan Provorov
Comments: 13
Kudos: 230





	Master of the House

When Mitch was told that all he had to do was lay back and relax, he never thought it would be like this. The special bench he’s strapped to bears his weight, allowing for him to put his arms back behind him and still be comfortable. There are men at each breast, and every suckling pull of their mouths makes him throb between his legs. He can and has come from just this, before, shuddering red-faced while the men feeding from him either smirked or barely took note. The housemaster had teased him for it before, saying that Mitch would have been perfect for the brothels if he wasn’t so sweet and didn’t produce so much. He hadn’t dried up once since his first induction, and he had more than enough regulars clamoring for his time that the house could possibly lose out on quite a bit of income if he were bred or knocked up by accident. 

He sighs when the first man is finally done, his suction breaking and leaving Mitch’s nipple swollen, pink and wet. There’s a small bead of milk right at the tip that the man immediately licks away before giving it a parting kiss. The other man finishes shortly after, leaving Mitch alone with his damp, tender nipples and an ache between his legs. He’s grateful when one of the keepers comes to fetch him, wiping him down briskly and applying a cream to his nipples to keep them from getting chapped. Mitch nearly comes then, but his disappointed whine is summarily ignored by the keeper, who unbuckles him and leads him back to his room, where there’s food and rest waiting. 

* * *

Mitch is roused by commotion, barely managing to sit up before someone shoves his door open. He doesn’t recognize the man, but his eyes skip over Mitch without a hint of interest. “Get up. This place has been sold, and your new master wants to see you.” 

Stumbling into the hallway after pulling on his shift, Mitch stands beside his door the way some of the others are. There’s a low hum of chatter; most of them hadn’t thought that the whole house could or would be sold, and no one is sure what to make of it. Hush falls in a wave when another stranger appears at the end of the hall, and Mitch sucks in a sharp breath. He can smell the alpha from here, the rich, woodsy scent strong. All of the men who come to use the services of the house are made to wear blockers to keep accidental bonds from forming; Mitch doesn’t think he’s smelled an alpha in years, and his head is almost dizzy with it. 

One by one, they’re examined by the alpha, turned this way and that so he can get a good look at each of them. Mitch sees it when the alpha frowns at one of the boys - Nolan, Mitch thinks his name is - who is often ill and struggling to produce. There are marks on his chest from the milking machine, and he flinches when the alpha traces one. 

“Infirmary,” the alpha calls to one of the waiting keepers. Mitch doesn’t recognize them, and he holds his breath as they approach, but the hand the man puts on Nolan’s back is gentle, guiding him down the hallway and out of sight. Despite the gesture, Mitch can’t help but wonder if he’ll ever see Nolan again. 

Mitch can’t help but tense when the alpha turns his dark gaze on him. He holds still as he’s examined, only flinching a little when the man takes his arm to turn him. Embarrassment takes hold when he’s turned back around, and the next inhale brings so much of the alpha’s scent into his nose that Mitch feels his chest and between his legs tingle. He’s wet and leaking and there’s no missing the way the alpha’s eyes go wide as he notes the scent and the way Mitch’s shift clings to his now-wet breasts. 

“This one,” he manages after a moment, leaving Mitch trembling when yet another keeper comes to fetch him. 

Mitch is led from their wing through a house that is bustling with activity. Old furniture is being moved out at the same time new furniture is being moved in. He can see other slaves being led to and fro by yet more strange keepers. For a moment, he catches a glimpse of his old friend, Auston, carrying one babe while his belly is clearly round with another, but they’re ushered on by their respective keepers until Mitch has lost sight of him. 

He’s handed over at a set of double doors. This keeper nudges him inside and tells him to stay. “There’s a bath if you’d like, and you’ll have breakfast shortly,” the man tells him and Mitch nods his acceptance before the doors are closed. 

The room is huge and clean, with windows to the outside. They’re at least three floors up, and Mitch gets dizzy when he gets too close to the windows, but he can stand back and look. A maid comes through about half an hour later with a tray, and Mitch can’t quite believe the food that has been brought. They’d never been starved, per se - it wouldn’t be good for their production if they were - but their food was often bland, enough to fill their bellies and keep them going. This … there’s eggs and toast and real bacon and oatmeal that is still steaming, with a little jug of milk and even sugar for him to add, if he wants. Mitch eats carefully, but quickly, until his plates are mostly clear and he’s sure he’ll be sick if he tries for more. 

He goes for the bath, then, thinking it might be appropriate to wash the sticky trails of milk from his belly before their new housemaster comes. Mitch is surprised by a knocking on the door and the same maid pokes her head in. 

“New clothes. Master Provorov would like you to wear them,” she explains, setting the small pile near where he’d left his shift. 

Mitch washes thoroughly before climbing out, drying off and then heading to pick up his new things. There’s a soft pair of pants that cinch around the waist, and a similarly soft but translucent shirt. He finds there are slits in the draping fabric, placed just so that the fabric can be swept aside to bare his chest for hungry mouths. Still, Mitch is clean and comfortable and full; if his new master wants him to drink from while treating him like this, then his position has only changed for the better. 

It’s some time before the alpha - Master Provorov - returns to his rooms. Mitch had explored a bit more before settling on the settee in front of the fire, listening to the distant chatter and banging as things and people moved throughout the house. The man studies Mitch for a moment, taking in his change of clothes and the shape of his body beneath it with approval in his eyes. 

“Are you comfortable?” he asks, surprising Mitch. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Please. Call me Alpha or Ivan. You’ve eaten?” 

“Yes, alpha.” Mitch tries not to visibly shiver as the alpha smiles at him, but it’s a near thing. 

“Good.” He takes a seat next to Mitch, and Mitch isn’t surprised when he’s pulled into Ivan’s lap. Warm, calloused palms run his arms before coming to settle at his waist. “I can smell your worry, but you don’t need to be afraid. I’m the new master of this house, yes, but I hope you’ll find I run things a bit more . . . kindly than the master you had before.” One hand comes up to gently part the fabric of Mitch’s shirt, baring one breast that’s already swollen and heavy with milk. Gentle fingers trace the curve, and Ivan gives an appreciative hum. “You’re lovely. I’d like you to be mine.” 

MItch wants to ask what that means, but Ivan must see the question in his face and he goes on to explain. “You’d live here, in my rooms instead of in the commons. You would have no more clients to service, only me; however, there may be times I offer you to others to sample. You represent the best of what this house has to offer, and doing so can be advantageous. What do you think?” 

He’s not prepared to be asked, and Mitch is stunned for a moment, and he tells himself that’s why the question slips from his mouth. “Will you be fucking me?” He flinches, but Ivan merely looks surprised, then amused. 

“I plan to, yes. Though no one else will; the only service you will offer is feeding. The doctor will be making his rounds after seeing to the ones in the infirmary; I’ll be asking that you be put on contraceptives to keep from planting my child in your belly too soon.” 

Mitch longs to ask more, but he’s sure he’s already pressing his luck; it’s a miracle Ivan had asked his input at all. But the warm scent of the alpha and the big hands petting circles on his hips makes him want, and Mitch finds himself nodding, hoping Ivan’s promises are true. “I would like that, Alpha.” 

“Very good,” Ivan murmurs. His hand comes back up to frame Mitch’s breast, and Mitch sighs in relief as the alpha’s warm mouth captures his nipple. He’d begun to feel overly full, and every suckle eases the sensation. He rests his hands on Ivan’s shoulders for balance, closing his eyes as the alpha drains one breast with long, confident sucks. 

Mitch is aching by the time Ivan switches his attention to the other side, and he can feel himself getting close. He’s not expecting for Ivan to slip his hand into Mitch’s pants, unerringly finding his wet, clenching hole. A finger pushing into him is all it takes to have him shuddering, back arching enough to stretch the nipple caught by Ivan’s mouth near painfully, but all it does is drag out Mitch’s orgasm. 

“Fuck,” Ivan’s voice is husky as he pulls away panting. There’s a thin stain of milky white at the corners of his mouth and Mitch’s body gives another pulse at the sight. “You’re so ripe. I’d have you bred the moment I put my cock in you.” 

Mitch squirms a little at the thought, but Ivan just rights his clothes and eases Mitch back onto the settee. Mitch is surprised to get a chase kiss, and that makes him blush more than anything has in a while. Ivan adjusts his cock in his pants briefly, standing up and making sure his clothes are straight. 

“I’ll be back. I want to do some final checks on the take over before bed. Please, make yourself comfortable.” 

It takes a few moments for Mitch to regain his composure, but the drying come on his thighs is good motivation. He’s relieved to find several sets of the same outfit in the chest of drawers, and he changes quickly, putting the dirty pants in a waiting hamper. 

There’s a study and a proper sitting room attached to the bed and bathroom, Mitch discovers. There are boxes of books waiting to be unpacked and lots of furniture still with covers on them from the move, so he abandons those rooms in favor of the bedroom. Normally, he’d spend hours feeding clients or being fondled; he’s not sure what to do with free time. He chances sprawling on the bed, the scent of freshly laundered sheets springing up around him as he sinks into the soft mattress. 

* * *

It turns out that Ivan has made a lot of changes to the house. Mitch hears it in bits and pieces from various people, including Ivan himself. Everyone in the house has been put on contraceptives, to stem the apparently burgeoning tide of babies being born. Those with children have been given the option to change their station, either moving to Mitch’s old wing to feed or to become part of the house staff as maids or cooks. Some of the older ones, Ivan admits, have been set free; apparently there are new laws about such things, but Mitch doesn’t let himself worry overly much about it once it’s clear they’re safe. 

The slaves of the house have been given run of their respective floors, allowing them their common areas and freedom to move about when they’re not providing the services expected of them. Even the food quality has gone up and - rumor has it - none of the feeder slaves are to be subjected to the milking machines any longer. Mitch thinks of Nolan and his sore nipples and bruised chest and is glad of it. Part of him wonders how the house will be sustainable with so many changes, but Ivan doesn’t seem worried, and it’s not like Mitch has much say. 

Of course, Mitch has his own role to play, now. Ivan feeds from him daily, coming back to their quarters to tug Mitch into his lap and bare his breasts, suckling with his eager mouth. He hasn’t fucked Mitch yet; the doctor had said it would take time for the contraceptives to take full affect. Mitch wonders what will be like in those moments when he can feel the bulge of Ivan’s cock pressed between his leg as Ivan drinks, or up against his ass or hip when they sleep. 

His first test will be tonight, though. Ivan has prospective new clients coming in, upper class people who will want to be impressed by what the house has to offer, and Mitch is meant to be their first taste. He’s not sure if he is nervous, if he should be; after all, he’s used to strangers coming in and suckling from him all the time. Yet, he wants to do Ivan proud, to be worthy of the praise Ivan has heaped on him since day one. 

Mitch gets bathed by two stern looking maids, every inch of him scrubbed thoroughly. He gets his face shaved and hair styled. One of them daubs just a bit of color on his lips before sending him to dress. The cut of the top is the same, though the fabric of both it and the pants is far more sheer than his regular clothes; he can see the shadow of his pubic hair through it and he knows that his wetness will soak right into the fabric, making it cling to his skin. It makes his face burn, but there’s nothing he can do but put them on. The soft fabric is blessedly light, at least; it’s late evening and Ivan hasn’t drunk from him all day, leaving his chest heavy and almost painfully tight with milk.

Ivan looks at him approvingly when he comes to fetch him, stealing a brief kiss and fondle before leading Mitch downstairs and into the sitting room. There are perhaps a dozen people, and all their heads turn toward Mitch and Ivan as they enter. Mitch can smell alphas, betas, and omegas alike, here; he’s curious, but he keeps his head down, following Ivan’s lead. 

They stop by each little group, Ivan greeting every person in attendance, making sure they’re enjoying themselves, that they’re comfortable, and answering any questions. Mitch can feel eyes on him, but no one has moved to touch, or asked if they could yet. 

It’s a while longer before Ivan leads him over to a small group of chairs where several men are talking. Just by glancing, Mitch can tell which one is likely the most important, or the wealthiest, and it doesn’t surprise him at all when Ivan offers him to the man. 

“He’s sweet and obedient if you’d like a taste, Mr. Andersen.” 

The man looks Mitch up and down, taking in the curves of his chest and lingering around his hips and crotch before he looks back up. “Come here,” Andersen says softly, extending a hand for Mitch to take. Guiding Mitch onto his lap, Andersen caresses his ass and hips, running his hands up Mitch’s sides to just feel the shape of him. His alpha scent is gunpowder and ice, sharp and acidic on Mitch’s tongue, but not unpleasant. 

Mitch rests his hands lightly on the alpha’s shoulders for balance while Andersen parts the fabric of his shirt, baring one breast. He teases a thumb over Mitch’s nipple, cupping his breast as though to feel the heft of it. Mitch is already getting wet, and he wonders how long he has before it begins to soak his pants. Andersen has a skilled mouth, much like Ivan’s. He takes a few slow, but strong sucks that leave Mitch breathless. The alpha hums a pleased sound, and offers Mitch a little smile as he pulls away, laving a stray droplet of milk away with his tongue. 

“So very sweet. He’s lovely, Provorov.” 

“I’m glad you like him. Would anyone else like a taste?” Ivan calls to the room at large. 

A couple of the men step forward to take Ivan up on his offer. Another calls “I’d like a taste of something else,” that gets a laugh from the room, and Ivan offers a wry smile. 

“Now, now, there will be other showcases for that. Though you may yet see him come tonight; he’s very sensitive.” Ivan helps Mitch up, leading him to a chair that reclines ever so slightly, with two more butted up close to it - the perfect arrangement for the men to come drink from him short of having the bench. Deft hands tug the folds of his shirt out of the way, leaving both of his breasts bare to the room. Looking down at himself, Mitch can see one nipple is slightly pinker than the other, a tiny bead of milk at the tip where Andersen had gotten him started. 

The next man wastes no time taking his seat, dipping his dark head to suckle at the same breast Andersen had. Unfortunately for Mitch, this stranger is not as skilled; he struggles to draw milk and the raw suction stings a bit. Thankfully, the man seems satisfied with a few pathetic sips, licking his lips in a satisfied way before taking his leave. 

“Hello, love,” the next alpha murmurs, settling himself on the opposite side of the last two men. “You’re gorgeous.” 

“Th-thank you, sir,” Mitch replies, shooting a glance at Ivan who only nods encouragingly. 

“Alpha is fine, or Morgan, if your Master allows.” The man cups Mitch’s full breast, clucking in sympathy when Mitch winces. “Poor thing. You’re too full. We can take care of that, though.” 

“Please, alpha?” 

That gets Mitch a smile, and a brief kiss to his breast. “You really are lovely. No wonder Provorov brought you to sample.” 

With that, Morgan latches on. He’s experienced, that much is clear. Though his suckles are short and gentle, they pull a steady stream of milk from Mitch. Every pull goes right between Mitch’s legs, and he knows for sure now that he’s soaking through the pants. Morgan moans softly and it’s a sound that Mitch echoes despite himself. He whimpers plaintively when Morgan pulls away, but he knows better than to reach out or beg. 

Ivan is watching when Morgan stands up with a parting kiss to Mitch’s breast, and there’s a smile dancing around his lips. “If there are no other takers, I do have something else for you to see.” He pauses for a moment, glancing around the room, but no one speaks. Circling the chair, Ivan comes up behind Mitch, and then his big hands are sweeping up Mitch’s belly to cup his breasts. 

“Spread your legs and be as loud as you like,” he murmurs into Mitch’s ear. Mitch only has a moment to wonder before Ivan’s hands start to move. He pulls and presses at Mitch’s nipples, a facsimile of feeding that has streams of milk running down Mitch’s chest. All Mitch can do is squirm and pant, moaning aloud as Ivan works him relentlessly. He’s going to  _ come _ , and it hits him that Ivan wants him to - he wants Mitch to come just from this so that these people can see and smell and hear him. 

With a shuddering cry, Mitch arches up, feeling his come soak the thin pants. He slumps back panting, face hot. Ivan’s only petting him now, and he’s vaguely aware of murmurs from the other occupants of the room. Eventually, Ivan lets him go, leaving him in the chair while he goes to speak with the guests again. Mitch risks opening his eyes, but more than one person is looking at him; Andersen, in particular, looks like he’d quite like to have Mitch in his lap again and it sends a shocky pleasure right down his spine. He’s a mess, milk stained up top, come stained down below and left half-sprawled with his breasts bare and this alpha  _ wants _ that. Mitch doesn’t move, though, just basking in the attention until Ivan sees the last of their guests to the door. 

“Can you stand?” he asks Mitch softly, helping him to his feet when Mitch nods. Ivan’s fingers brush one nipple as he pulls Mitch into a kiss. “You were perfect. Come, let’s get you to bed.” 

Once they’re back in their rooms, Ivan strips Mitch naked and runs a washcloth over him to clean him up. He applies cream to Mitch’s nipples and helps him pull his nightgown over his head. Mitch shivers when Ivan’s hard cock presses up against his ass as Ivan spoons up behind him; he wants it - he wanted it downstairs in that sitting room, with all of those people watching, and he wants it now, but all he can do is wait. 

* * *

Mitch gets shown to prospective clients about once a week; sometimes there are other slaves in the room, and sometimes there aren’t. He thinks it depends on the size of the group and their interests, but he couldn’t say for sure. The others are usually from the brothel, although another feeder has been brought in on occasion. He’s had some heady, thrilling experiences watching other omegas be fingered, or fondled, or fucked. A few have been knotted and left to dangle from a stranger’s knot while the evening went on around them. On a memorable occasion, one omega was lashed to a table, legs spread so that anyone could use their mouth on his cock or holes. He’d cried, at one point, after he’d come a fifth time, fat tears rolling down his cheeks that Ivan had let fall without scolding, smiling when someone went up to make the boy come a sixth time. 

Sometimes, Mitch wonders why the other omegas are necessary. Surely, he could service a small group even if he’s not one of the brothel omegas, because enough of them strain to see what he has to offer when he’s managed to soak his pants again. One alpha was bold enough to press his finger up against his hole through the fabric, and Mitch had choked on a cry, coming helplessly while the man chuckled. 

It’s not until someone tries to slip their hand  _ into _ his pants that things click. Ivan has the man removed from the house and gently deposits Mitch into the lap of the returning Mr. Andersen for safekeeping. It’s puzzling, until Andersen finishes drinking from him and presses a light kiss to Mitch’s cheek in thanks. “Your alpha is jealous. I think you should go to him,” he murmurs, helping Mitch stand. For a moment, Mitch wants to swear that Andersen is wrong, but the way Ivan looks at him and draws him close when Mitch crosses the room to be with him says everything. 

The next morning is a day off for them all. Mitch wakes in a familiar position, with Ivan pressed up tightly behind him. Ivan’s cock is hard against Mitch’s ass, and he rocks slightly against it, just to feel. He’s not expecting to hear the shuddery breath that Ivan lets out or to feel the bite of teeth against his neck. 

“Don’t move,” Ivan murmurs. He moves away briefly, and then Mitch’s nightgown is being lifted just enough to bare his ass. There’s no stopping the soft moan that escapes him when Ivan presses close again, clearly naked from the waist down. His cock his hot against Mitch’s skin, and Mitch’s body responds in kind. All Ivan has to do is lift Mitch’s leg with one hand, holding him spread so he can press in and in and in. It’s so much cock, thick and heavy inside Mitch that he claws at the sheets, rocking back because surely there must be an end and he needs to find it. 

Ivan’s hips slap against his ass, the full length of him buried inside Mitch. It aches, but it’s so good and Ivan doesn’t hesitate to start moving. The drag leaves Mitch breathless, and there’s a tingling in his chest that tells him his milk has let down and is likely soaking into his nightgown. 

“Fuck,” Ivan growls suddenly, dropping Mitch’s leg and rolling so that Mitch is under him. He rearranges them so that Mitch’s legs are spread and Ivan can fuck in hard, deep. It’s a brutal fuck that would be a breeding if Mitch could catch. His cries are muffled in the sheets and he all but screams when Ivan’s knot pops, stretching him tight and leaving him twitching in the wake of orgasm. He can feel the throb of Ivan’s knot in him, pumping spurt after spurt of come that is going to leave his insides as messy as his outside. 

Ivan eases them down to the bed again, holding Mitch close. For a while, they just breathe together. Mitch is buzzing with sensation, and he only gives a token whine when Ivan’s hands find his breasts. He comes again from Ivan milking his chest, helpless to get away with his alpha’s knot inside him. 

“Mine,” Ivan murmurs, kissing Mitch’s neck. “They can have some of you, but not all of you. You’re mine, Mitch.” 

It sounds like a promise, and Mitch smiles to himself as he melts back into Ivan’s arms. “Yes, alpha.” 


End file.
